Monday, March 24 2008
Weekly Wined Up
Did you drink these unaided? Why no, I had the assistance of a bottle of Champagne!
This last week I had a few meals that were suited for a nice glass of wine, so I opened seven bottles, but I only managed to enjoy 5-1/2. That's not a bad ratio around my house, mind-you. I buy quite a lot of wine on spec, and some of it is suitable only for sousing out the drains. My current biggest complaint is the teeth-grindingly stupid trend to wines with too much fruit, sugar, oak and alcohol. If I want a drink with 18 or 20% alcohol I'll mix a cocktail. If I want a glass of wine, I want something under 13%. If I want sugar, I'll drink Port, not Chardonnay and if I want plywood, I'll build a rec room, not pull a cork. Sheesh!
The big offender this week is the 2005 Tukulu Chenin Blanc from Groenekloof in South Africa. I'm a very big fan of Chenin Blanc, both from the Loire and (usually) from SA. The grape is floral, melony and made right it comes up with a honeyed note that I find beguiling. Saumur, Anjou, Vouvray--nom nom nom! The crisp acidity makes for great, snappy wines. Unfortunately, this isn't one of them. The wine is so insanely over-ripe the fruit comes off like a combination of household cleaner and paint-thinner. And no wonder: the label claims 15% alcohol, but I wouldn't be surprised if the actual number was closer to 17%. Honestly, I felt like my palate got mugged. The grapes must have hung until they were mere pinpoints of sugar, free of acid and subtlety, and uncontaminated by fruit character. Normally I try to find something charitable to say about most wines, but in this case I feel like I've been abused as a consumer--what's their target market, people too timid to return defective wine?
A couple of stalwarts from my cellar showed up to the party to smooth things out. I wanted pasta last week and my wife was nice enough to make a wonderful Bolognese sauce. I hauled out a bottle of SandhillSmall Lots. It's from one of the parent company wineries, made by Howard Soon. Normally I don't miss an opportunity to chide Howard for (in my opinion) using too much oak, but this Sangiovese worked very well: firm acidity backed up a bright red-cherry character with some nicely refined tannins. It could use another two years, but like most Sangiovese-type wines, a little youth with some decently flavourful food (bolognese sauce fits the bill) tied it together nicely.
A real surprise was the Small Lots Phantom Creek Malbec. I really picked it up in a mood of 'show me', because I wasn't sure you could successfully ripen Malbec in the Okanagan climate--wrong-o! The fruit was nicely balanced, with a surprising hint of strawberry on the nose--I mainly associate Malbec with dark red fruit, leather and earth. Ripened more slowly in a cool climate it really became much more delicate, with raspberry, cherry and tart plum notes, really nicely knit tannins, and at only 12.5% alcohol, I drank most of the bottle myself over the course of an evening, without falling asleep in my chair. Nice job Howard! Now that I've let the cat out of the bag, I have to run and get more, as there were only 200-odd cases made!
Finally, a real joy was the Chateau Pesquié Côtes-du-Ventoux Les Terrasses. Ventoux is in the southern Rhone in France and is named after the most prominent local feature, Mount Ventoux. It's a blend of Grenache and Syrah, only gets a little oak and clocks in at 14% alcohol--but it's an honest 14%. Right at my first taste I shouted 'garrigue!', to which my wife replied, 'gesundheit'. Garrigue actually means, 'it smells like an empty lot', albeit an empty lot on a limestone hillside covered in scrub, grasses, bay laurel, thyme, rosemary, lavender, mint, etc. This typical local flora contributes to the character of grapes grown nearby, and subtle though it is, it's a heckuva note in a wine that costs less than fifteen bucks. Typical of a wine dominated by Grenache it has strawberry and raspberry notes, nummy tannins and moderate acidity. The Syrah sneaks in a bit of plumminess and jam, but overall it drinks more like a precocious but well-behaved Burgundy raconteur, rather than a scruffy Rhone manqué, and ends with a supple finish that begs drinking. I had it with a pretty simply grilled steak and it was marvy.
Another week, another rack of dead soldiers. Now to find my receipt, take that bottle of Chenin back, and stand on my rights as a consumer.
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